


Spot's Girls

by AdrenalineRevolver



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Getting Together, Girlsies, M/M, Protectiveness, Soft Spot Conlon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23057026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrenalineRevolver/pseuds/AdrenalineRevolver
Summary: Brooklyn is an all girl gang minus their leader and mascot, Spot Conlon.
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Comments: 5
Kudos: 88





	Spot's Girls

Brooklyn was filled up with girlsies. Race wasn’t sure how that happened but every newsie he ever ran into on his way to Sheepshead was a girl. 

Some of them were tall and leggy. Like Hotshot, she probably could make a go of things down at the Bowery. Not that she’d ever put up with some guy whistling at her. She’d break them in half for even thinking about it.

A few were petite all over with big eyes like some sort of French fashion model. Kenny looked about like that when she wasn’t rearing back to deck somebody. Racetrack was kind of scared to even think about telling her she was cute. 

Some were blessed and cursed at the same time. Just about every time he ran into Myron the poor girl mentioned something about her back or shoulders hurting. She was beautiful, but got a lot of stares over something she couldn’t really help.

Where was he going with this? Oh, they were pretty girls he knew of and they were running Brooklyn with terrifying military style precision. 

Well, except for Spot. Spot was a guy. 

He was nearly a whole foot shorter than his second in command and about as angry as a wet cat. Racetrack had honestly assumed that he was a girl for a long time, some of the girls in Brooklyn dressed like guys. He just thought Spot did that either out of preference or for intimidation. Who was he to judge? Pants had to be easier to work in than a skirt.

It was only during the strike that Race had realized Spot wasn’t hiding anything extra under his shirt. Buttons was thrown back by a bull and cut open his arm. The blood just wouldn’t stop and none of the strikebreakers seemed to care. If Spot hadn’t thought fast enough to pull his shirt off and use it as bandages Buttons may not have made it. If he hadn’t thought fast enough to snatch Spot and have Albert run back to the lodge with Buttons no doubt they would have been rewarded with public indecency charges.

His guy-ness was still the topic of conversation though. It made all the guys in Manhattan buzz for days.

Spot’s harem. Spot’s girls. Spot’s this, Spot’s that.

It couldn’t actually be like that though, could it? Harems like that were just fairy tale stuff. Things that you read about in seedy stories.

“So, uh, you and Spot…” He felt like an idiot for asking. Even if Spot was that sort of guy Hotshot wouldn’t-

“Oh him?” She grinned wildly, eyes sparkling. “Best lover out there. No-wonder the girls are willing to share.”

“W-What?!” Racetrack managed to choke on nothing but air. 

Hotshot burst into laughter, her peals of giggles turning into loud snorts. It was a beautiful sound, unrestrained and free. “J-Jesus Christ you should see your face.”

“You ass!” Race swatted her shoulder. He meant it playfully though Racetrack suspected that even if he tried to hurt her it wouldn’t do much. 

“Really though.” Hotshot explained, still trying to stifle her laughter. “He ain’t with any of us.”

“Why?” He figured Spot could just ask any girl he wanted to and she’d say yes. Spot was strong, sharp, and not exactly bad looking. That was before you even considered the power he held.

“Ask him. Oh! And tell him I said he’s the grandest lover out there.” She blew a kiss before heading off to sell the rest of her papers. 

Actually getting Spot alone was hard. Race had thought the ‘King of Brooklyn’ was sort of an honorary thing but Spot took it seriously. He was always telling girls where they should probably sell tomorrow based on their skillset, what headline will likely continue to draw interest for the week, and gathering reports of how their days went. 

“Oh, hey Race.” Spot was waiting down by the docks for the last of the kids to report in. He almost looked peaceful in the sunset, as peaceful as Spot ever allowed himself to be. 

“Hotshot says you’re the grandest lover out there.” He can’t help but grin. 

Spot visibly recoiled. “Bye Race.”

“Hold on!” He quickly holds his hands up. “I know she’s just playin’. How come you ain’t goin’ around with any of the girls here though?”

He looked like Racetrack suggested that he strangle a small animal. “I ain’t gonna betray their trust like that.”

“Their trust?” Race raised an eyebrow.

“Exactly. They gotta trust me. Trust that I see ‘em as people. Every night they get home safe is a fuckin’ miracle. They gotta know they’re goin’ somewhere they’re gonna be safe. I started gettin’ interested then they won’t know if I’m helpin’ em cause they’re Brooklyn or cause I want ‘em to owe me.” He tossed a chipped bit of concrete into the bay.

“So you ain’t even interested?” He almost found that hard to believe, almost. 

“Never.” Spot quickly shook his head. Not even seeming to give it the thought.

“Well don’t ya at least like, “ He waved his hand as he looked for the right word. “notice?” 

“Notice what?” He cocked his head to one side, looking a bit like a confused puppy.

“That they’re all stunners?” Hotshot had legs for days, Myron had a chest on her that would make a Bowery Beauty blush with envy, and when Kenny bothered to wash the dirt off her face she could bring a whole ship into the navy yard to buy from her.

“They’re my girls. Course they’re stunners.” He puffed up like a peacock but he seemed to miss the point. They were stunning because they were Brooklyn newsies, it didn’t really have anything to do with being girl newsies.

“…Spot. Can ya do me a favor?” Race had taken risker gambles in the past but he still wanted to jump into the river and swim home at the thought of this one.

Spot just snorted. “Probably not.”

Race ignored him and continued. “Describe Hotshot.” 

“She’s sharp. A bit of an ass. Annoyingly tall and quick to use it in a fight or when selling. She’s probably just as capable to be the leader as me but doesn’t want the responsibility.” He sighed. “Which is kind of a shame, I don’t wanna age out and leave nobody ready to step up, you know?”

Not a word about how her laugh could probably kill guys with weak hearts or how her legs could be murder weapons.. “Now Myron?”

“She’s tougher than she gives herself credit for. She gets wrapped up in her nerves and thinks that’s all that’s to her but she’s always there as backup when you need her. Emotionally or when it’s time to soak someone.” Spot paused for a moment and glanced out at the water. “We need to find her a better corset or somethin’ or her back is just goin’ to keep gettin’ worse.”

The girl’s got a chest on her better than the type guys men pay real cash to see and all Spot has to say is that her back is bothering her. “Now a guy.”

“What guy?” Spot raised an eyebrow.

“Any guy? Me.” Race offered.

“Okay…Well, you’re funny sometimes. Your eyes are really blue.” He stared up at the overcast sky. “I’ve only seen that color once when it was right after a snowstorm so none of the factories had been runnin’ in a while, ya know? The sky cleared up and it looked like your eyes. Your laugh is dumb, but in a good way.” He suddenly seemed to get defensive. “Why you wantin’ me to do all this?”

Racetrack sighed and threw his arm over his shoulder. “You know you’re uh, like that, right?” 

“Like what?” Every muscle in Spot’s body seemed to tense at once. 

“Like that. Uh, poetic? Artsy?” He shrugged. “I don’t really know too many words for it that won’t get my legs broken.” 

Spot grabbed him by the collar and dragged him closer. “They just might get broken anyway.” He bit out every word.

“H-hey now. Just makin’ conversation ya know?” A nervous laugh bubbled up in the back of Race’s throat. “Things are a little more…relaxed over in Manhattan. I mean uh, not to start any rumors but Jackie’s an artist.” 

The distaste for Jack seemed to be quietly set aside for curiosity. “Doesn’t he have a girl?”

“Had. Loved her too. Loves the guy he’s got now an awful lot too.” He said simply.

Spot dropped him as if touching his shirt burnt. “You shouldn’t tell me that.” 

“Not like you’ll say nothin’.” Racetrack was confident about that. Spot may not like Jack but he wasn’t an ass. 

“You still shouldn’t tell me. It’s dangerous.” He insisted. 

The gears started to turn in Race’s head. Spot was preoccupied with danger. Selling alone was dangerous so the Brooklyn newsies tended to move like a pack. Getting sick was dangerous so Spot went out of his way to keep everyone healthy. “Like a bunch a girl newsies not havin’ a guy as their leader?” 

“Just as bad, cause it could lead to a bunch a newsies not havin’ a leader.” Spot shoved his hands in his pockets.

“I won’t say anythin’ more if you tell me how Brooklyn ended up staked to the brim with girlsies.” Not that he won’t bring it up later.

Spot sighed. “About, I don’t know, ten years ago? Whatever, two leaders ago, there was a place like the Refuge over in Brooklyn that dealt with girls. Only, it went further than the refuge. It rented ‘em. Our leader at the time found out and she was so fuckin’ mad she had the place burnt to the ground. Not before making every girl there a part of her personal guard. The boy that inherited the position to her started noticin’ that girls came from other boroughs wantin’ to join but boys almost never did. We’d gotten this reputation. To most boys we were terrifyin’. To girls we were the only thing that made ‘em feel safe. The only boys that ever came in from outside of Brooklyn were…artsy.” He made a face at the code word but uses it anyway. “Now the other guys have either aged out or are too young to sell far from the lodging house.”

“How’d you end up the leader?” Race just figured that it was a silent thing like in Manhattan. Someone just stepped up and did it.

“We talked about it. It was a toss-up between Hotshot and me. Eventually the girls voted that since I was already doin’ a good job as actin’ leader and because the other boroughs might not respect us as much if we didn’t have some tough guy out front.” Spot leaned against the dock, the dim light made his eyes look almost inhuman. They were always warm and dark but when the light hit them just right they looked like they belonged on a deer rather than an angry little newsie. His lips didn’t look like they fit him either. They were too soft looking for someone who was always getting into fights.

“Smalls leads Queens.” He quickly pointed out. 

“Yeah but both her second and third in command are these giant assholes. Anything she says goes or they crush your skull.” He mimicked a head being smashed between his hands. 

“True.” Racetrack had to give him that.

“Why are you…okay with all of this?” Spot snorted at the code. “Got any secret artistic talent I should know about?”

“Nah, but I think I like guys.” His laugh turns into a squeak when he’s grabbed. 

Spot quickly slammed his hand over Racetrack’s mouth whipped his head around, probably looking for eavesdroppers. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Mph.” Race mumbled. 

Spot took his hand away with a sigh. 

“I mean, the people whose job it is tell would say I am. But I don’t feel it. I just. Fell into it.” He shrugged, unsure of what it meant to even himself. 

“Fell into it?” Spot looked lost, those ridiculous doe eyes widening in confusion. 

“I liked girls. I still do. There was this girl in particular that I really liked. She was tough as nails but incredibly cute. Would probably break every bone in my body for callin’ her cute but would also stop and say hi to every cat she walked past. I found out she was a guy. I still like her. Him. I like him.” Racetrack had kind of expected his crush to fade away when he found out but it just didn’t. So here he was. Goofy over a guy. 

Spot’s confusion abruptly shifted to being flustered when Race mentions the cats. “Wait, you thought I was a girl?” 

“Well half the girls in who sell with ya never touch a skirt and your hair used to be longer than mine. Yeah, your voice is kinda deep for a girl’s but you coulda had colic real bad as a kid or somethin’.” Race knew he was starting to babble but couldn’t stop himself. “I mean I knew girls with voices just as deep as yours cause a that. A-And-“

Spot, thankfully, interrupted him. “And even knowin’ I ain’t ya still…?”

“Yeah?” Racetrack shrugged.

The lips on his were a surprise. A pleasant one, but still. Spot’s lips were just as soft as they looked even though he kissed downright violently. He had Race backed up to a brick wall before Race even realized he was moving. When Spot finally pulled back Race had to gasp to catch his breath. Catching his breath, that’s what Spot always made him feel like. 

“It’s getting late.” Spot breathed against his lips.

Race felt dizzy and was glad he had the wall to hold him up. “I-I. Uh. I’ve never…” 

“N-No I didn’t mean like that.” Spot’s face was practically crimson. “You could get mugged or something goin’ home this late. Plus it would be nice to ya know.” He can’t quite make eye contact despite having Race nailed to the wall like a painting. “Wake up with you there.” 

“That’s adorable. You’re adorable.” Racetrack grinned from ear to ear. 

“I’m gonna kick your ass.” Spot refused to make eye contact as he pulled Racetrack towards the lodging house. 

The teasing from Hotshot was almost immediate once the two slipped inside. 

“Oh no, I’ve been replaced.” She fake swooned. “What ever will I do?”

The girls giggled and a few ruffled Spot’s hair as he passed. 

“Assholes. All of you.” Spot stomped to his bunk and practically shoved Racetrack into it. 

“It seems like they like you.” Racetrack lowered his voice to a whisper as Spot climbed in next to him. 

“It can be both. Trust me.” He leaned his head back. “Night you jerks.”

A chorus of soft voices all responded with some variation of “Night Spotty.”.

They may get a kick out of teasing him but Race figured it would be a safe bet to say that the girls all slept better knowing he was here. Race sure did. He knew that if anyone followed one of the girls back and broke in Spot would be on them like a terrier on a rat. If anything he was more afraid that they’d have to pry Spot off some prowler to keep Spot from committing murder. 

Spot curled into his ribs as soon as he fell asleep. He almost didn’t look intimidating with the stress of the day gone from his face. Though Race knew better, anyone that got between Spot and the people who were his would be left in pieces. 

It made his heart swell to realize he was one of those people.


End file.
